


What We Built Together

by neil_gaiman_wannabe



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 23:18:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19187281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neil_gaiman_wannabe/pseuds/neil_gaiman_wannabe
Summary: set some time after the finale, jaime and brienne lead a peaceful life in winterfell





	What We Built Together

Jaime Lannister rolled over in bed, pulling the fur lined blanket that lay across him up until it covered half his face. Mornings in the North were cold, even in Summer, colder by far then any days in Lannisport or Queen’s Landing. He could practically feel his teeth chattering in his skull and let out an audible huff of annoyance. The morning’s in the North were cold, made all the colder by the absence of his devoted bed partner who was meant to keep him warm. He reluctantly opened his eyes and confronted the streams of morning light that slipped through the window panes. It couldn’t be past the eighth hour and Brienne was nowhere to be found. She seemed to be getting up earlier and earlier these days.

The one-handed knight sat up with a groan, pulling himself from the comfort of his furs and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. His golden hand lay on the small bedside table beside him; he reached forward and took it, attaching it to his right wrist with practiced ease, tightening the straps across his forearm to secure it. His breeches lay on the floor, pooled next to his feet, and he slipped them on before shuffling across the room to where his shirt was slung across a chair. After he finished dressing himself, he made his way to the door, exiting into the hall where he turned and walked directly into Samwell Tarly.

“Oh, my apologies, Ser Jaime,” Sam stuttered, bending down to pick up the books he had dropped.

“Not at all, the fault was mine, Maester Tarly,” Jaime said reaching to add a final book from the floor to the top of the pile in Sam’s hand.

“Ah, well, that’s not really necessary,” Sam said with a smile and a nervous bob of his head. “Uh, the Maester title, I mean to say,” he added quickly. “Most folks still just call me Sam.”

“Maester is an enviable title, Tarly,” Jaime said kindly. “You should be proud to wear it and people should be proud to call you by it.”

“So Gilly keeps telling me,” Sam laughed. “I think it will just take some getting used to is all.”

“I’m certain it will take to you well, Maester.” Jaime turned and looked behind him towards the stairwell which led to the courtyard. “By any chance, have you seen Ser Brienne this morning?”

“Ah, yes of course. Eh, Lady Sansa - oh, pardon,” he stumbled over his mistake. “Queen Sansa called a Small Council meeting this morning after which Ser Brienne mentioned that she would be training with the Queensguard.”

“Thank you kindly, friend,” Jaime said cordially, gently slapping Samwell on the back with his good hand.

He turned and walked towards the stairwell, letting out a lighthearted whistle, a challenge to the cool air that bit at his face. He took the steps two at a time, surprised by his own vigor and good nature. He felt oddly spry today, as though a young boy again. The polite smile he gave to Samwell lingered on his face and soon spread to a full grin. He felt good, in way that he hadn’t for quite a long time.

———————————————————————————————————–

Ser Brienne of Tarth stood with her arms across her chest, looking across the vast Winterfell courtyard at the two rows of armored guards that stood in front of her, five to her left and five to her right. The Queensguard had been training for several hours now, their Lady Commander insistent that the exercises be repeated until perfection had been attained. Ser Podrick, Captain of the Queensguard, stood beside her, a stern of expression on his face that looked so oddly out of place he may as well have been making play to get someone to laugh.

“I think that’s enough for today, Ser Podrick,” Brienne said, unfolding her arms and turning to him. She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, smiling down at her friend and former squire. “Please see to it that Ser Janice, Ser Brale, Ser Margery, and Ser Allison resume their duties beside Queen Sansa. The rest of you may take your leave until the changing of the guard,” she added, looking towards the ten Queensguards that remained in formation. With militant precision the guards stood to attention in a sign of salute, their heavy armor making a loud clanking noise as they moved.

“As you order, Lady Commander,” Podrick smiled up at her. He motioned for the four aforementioned guards to follow as he made towards the entrance to the main hall. Ser Janice, Ser Brale, Ser Margery, and Ser Allison marched after him and the others dispersed.

Brienne let out a soft sigh, head hanging slightly. She felt tired. She would never show it, but she could feel it in her bones. She had been sleeping well, but always woke feeling exhausted. Jaime had been insisting that she had been pushing herself too hard and she was beginning to think that he may be right. Even her moon blood had been irregular as of late.

Let me take you away from here, she could hear his voice in her head say. You work too hard, worry too much. We could go to Tarth, take some much needed rest.

Brienne was shaken from her reverie by two arms that slid around her middle, pulling her flush against a familiar form. She smiled softly as his jaw nestled into the crook of her neck.

“I was cold,” Jaime said sulkily. “I was cold and you left me.”

“My apologies, husband,” Brienne replied, pulling away and turning to face him. Jaime’s hands rested about her waist as he looked up at her, eyes filled with unbridled affection. The sight of his puppy dog face nearly made her laugh. “But many of us have duties to perform and are not afforded the luxury of idling the hours away in bed.”

Jaime let out a mock gasp of offence.

“I will have you know, wife,” he said, stepping closer to her. “That I only entered into this union under the provided certainty that I would be cared for in the manner to which I have been accustomed my entire life.”

Brienne did laugh at that, a loud laugh that echoed against the walls. “Does his lordship require more furs for his bedding?” she asked, hand raised to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter.

Jaime smiled broadly, raising himself to press a quick kiss to his wife’s lips. Before he could move back, Brienne snaked her arms around his shoulders, leaning forward to deepen the kiss. After a moment they broke apart for air, foreheads resting against each other.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” he asked.

“I have not,” she replied, hand reaching for his. “Will you escort me, Ser Jaime?”

“It would be an honor, Ser Brienne.”

———————————————————————————————————–

(one week later)

It was well into the the hour of the ghosts as Brienne sat and waited for Jaime to return. She was sitting in front of a roaring fire, in the same chamber she had been made a knight all those years ago. It was nearest to their bedroom and she knew Jaime would think to find her here when he came back. Her husband had gone riding with Lord Jon earlier that day, accompanied by a small group of soldiers; there had been rumors of a band of highwaymen besetting travelers on the Queen’s Road and Lord Snow had requested Jaime’s help in dealing with the problem. Brienne wasn’t worried; she knew Jaime could take care of himself. Still she waited. It seemed to be an unspoken promise between the two of them. Whenever Brienne returned from a day’s journey or else retired later than usual she always found Jaime awake and waiting for her. And she did the same. Neither could deny the slight sense of relief they felt upon seeing the other safe before they slept.

Brienne took a deep breath and stretched her legs out before her, soaking in the comfortable heat of the hearth. She was wearing her loose sleeping shirt and pants and was comfortable bundled beneath a thick fur robe. The fire glowed and crackled pleasantly, lulling Brienne until her lids rested heavily against her eyes. The loud slow creaking of the main chamber door stirred her from her rest and she sat up suddenly, turning in her chair to face the newcomer. Jaime entered silently, closing the door behind him, taking care to keep quite.

When he caught sight of Brienne he flashed her a charming smile, though he looked utterly exhausted. As he moved closer she could see that he was utterly caked in mud and leaves. She returned his smile, bottom lip pressed beneath her teeth in an effort to contain her obvious mirth at his state of dress.

“All right, all right,” he said, rolling his eyes, arms spread to either side. “Let’s have it.”

“Did you have a successful hunt, my love?” she asked, a short burst of laughter escaping her.

“My horse saw a snake,” he explained. “And threw me from my saddle. I landed in a mud pile.”

“A mud pile.”

“A mud pile,” he continued, making his way to the chair next to her. “And I had barely retaken my bearings before we were set upon by the very blackguards we were searching for.”

“And?” Brienne asked, moving her chair closer to his.

“And…” Jaime grunted, removing his dirty boots from his feet and stretching out his legs. “These oh-so-dangerous highwaymen turned out to be no more then a group of children, not a lad or lass among them older then fifteen.”

Brienne snorted and pressed her hand to her mouth.

“No, laugh, please,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal. “I laughed too, until one of them nearly took my head off with an ax. Wife, today I was nearly killed by a murderous seven year old girl and I am certain that I shan’t soon recover from it.”

“My poor, brave husband,” Brienne said, taking his golden hand in hers. “What was the outcome of this fearsome battle?”

“Well, after a moments time, Lord Jon dismounted (after he had a stopped laughing) and came to my rescue,” Jaime explained. We were able to round up the rabble quite easily. From what we could piece together, they seem to be mostly orphans from the War, with a few runaways having joined their ranks recently. They had taken to robbing farmers and merchants as a means to survive and had only recently tried their hand at the Queen’s Roads.”

“What did you do with them?”

“The only thing we could think of: we brought them here, to Winterfell,” he answered. “Lord Jon expects that Queen Sansa or Tyrion will have some idea as to what should be done with them.”

Jaime stared at the fire before them, lost in contemplation.

“They were so young, Brienne,” he said. “They seemed so fierce, and yet so frightened at the same time.”

Brienne considered him briefly, the way his brow furrowed in thought, how the firelight danced in his eyes. She leaned forward and rested her head against his shoulder.

“I know, love,” she whispered.

A comfortable silence fell on the room, broken only by the sound of the fire and the couple’s slow, steady breathing.

“She reminded me of you,” Jaime said after a moment. “The half-mad girl who nearly took my head,” he explained after Brienne looked up at him in confusion.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” Brienne asked.

“Aye, you should.”

Brienne smiled and sat up in her seat. “You should really bathe,” she said. “Unless you intend to find other sleeping arrangements for the night.”

Jaime stood, leaned down, and pressed a gently kiss to her forehead. “I should really bathe then.”

———————————————————————————————————–

Jaime rose from the lukewarm bathwater after sometime, pulling his pants up and securing them about his waist. He dried his hair with a clean cloth and walked towards the bed, where Brienne was laying with a book in hand. She seemed to be completely engrossed, but her fingers drummed along the edge nervously; Jaime had learned long ago that this was a tell of hers.

“Something on your mind, love?” he asked sitting down at her feet.

Brienne looked at him over the top of her book. She huffed and closed it suddenly, flinging it to the side and drawing her knees to her chest.

“I have a question to ask you,” she said, chin resting atop her knees.

Jaime turned towards her, bringing one leg up to rest on the bed while the other hung over the edge.

“What a coincidence,” he laughed. “I’ve a question to ask you as well.”

Jaime possessed the disarming talent of almost always seeming at ease, but over the years of knowing him Brienne had learned when he was putting on a show. This was undoubtedly one of those moments. Jaime was nervous and if she had to guess Brienne would say it had more to do with what he wanted to ask rather then her question.

“You go first,” she said.

“Oh no, please I-”

“Jaime, please,” Brienne pressed.

Jaime looked at her meaningfully and took a deep breath. “When we were escorting the children back to Winterfell, Jon charged me with the care of the little girl, the one with the ax. He said that I was the only one up to the challenge. She has a propensity to bite,” he added with a chuckle.

Brienne smiled but didn’t interrupt.

“She barely spoke the entire ride,” he continued. “I tried to engage her several times. I told her that we were taking her to a great castle. Told her she could eat to her heart’s content. I even told her she may meet the Queen. She barely acknowledged me…until casually mentioned my wife, the Lady Commander of the Queensguard. Ser Brienne? she chirped up at me. You’re married to Ser Brienne? The rest of the ride she prattled on and on about Ser Brienne of Tarth the first Lady Knight, Hero of the War for the Dawn. I saw her once, she said to me. She was on the road in her shining armor, escorting the Queen! I swear I thought she might combust from excitement, especially when I told her she could meet you.”

He smiled at the floor.

“Jaime,” Brienne said, inching her way towards him. “What do you want to ask me?”

Jaime looked at her, his eyes searching her face. “My love,” he said softly. “I know we’ve never spoken of it, but…would you ever want children?”

Brienne’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Because I know of a young girl in desperate need of a family-” he continued before being interrupted by Brienne, who had all but thrown herself across the bed into his arms, peppering kisses about his face.

“May I take that to mean yes?” he asked after Brienne had pulled away. She laughed at his stunned expression.

“You may,” she said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Under one provision,” she added, taking his hand and moving it to her belly. “That you’re open to the prospect of a slightly larger family then you may have initially anticipated.”

Jaime looked from her face to where his hand rested on her stomach and back to her face again, mouth agape.

“You - I - are we -” he stuttered.

“Yes, my love,” she said, taking his face between her hands. “I’m pregnant.”

Jaime let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He slowly slipped off the bed, lowering himself to his knees in front of Brienne.

“A baby,” he whispered, as though afraid that he may startle himself from a dream. “We’re having a baby.”

He laughed suddenly, half gasping as a broad smile stretched across his face.

“A baby,” Brienne repeated softly. She leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to his brow. “We’re having a baby. And now it seems we will have a daughter as well.”

Jaime looked up at her, tears spilling from the corner of his eyes.

They were to have a family.

He couldn’t wait to tell Tyrion.


End file.
